


The Meanest Nigga in Oakland

by Lady_Blackwater



Series: Oakland's Very Own [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Black Character(s), Domestic Fluff, Erik Killmonger Has Feelings, Erik Killmonger Lives, Erik Killmonger Redemption, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Soft Erik Killmonger, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 15:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Blackwater/pseuds/Lady_Blackwater
Summary: Erik and Sienna get into it—as usual. Brattiness, stubbornness, fluff, and roasting ensues.





	The Meanest Nigga in Oakland

**Author's Note:**

> *Kendrick Lamar voice* All Hail King Killmonger. OC is black and plus-sized. Always. 
> 
> Thank you, HalcyonSeasons.

Erik knows  _ exactly _ what the fuck the deal is whenever Sienna spends the whole day being especially nice to him by making him breakfast, doing his laundry, randomly saying “I love you,” or cleaning their bedroom without complaint. When they first began dating, his appreciation outweighed his skepticism, and he was certain he bagged himself a bad one. 

 

Now, he isn’t  _ so _ naive. 

 

He knows that once nightfall comes and Sienna begins to blast music from her Bluetooth speaker, dons his MIT over her bra and thong, and begins dancing around their bathroom that she’s about to go out with her annoying, drunk, and loud friends. He knows that he’s being buttered up by her earlier actions and it’s comical that she thinks he hasn’t caught on after all this time together. He also knows she knows how much he hates going to clubs as well as her going to clubs, which only makes sense as to why she felt like she had to butter him up instead of just telling him she’s going to a club. She knows it brings on a whole attitude on his part, and she might not know her man well enough if she thinks being extra nice to him is gonna diminish said attitude. 

 

He’s Erik “Killmonger” Stevens. Attitude is in his DNA. 

 

From his spot on their bed, he glances back and forth between watching basketball highlights and Sienna do the absolute most in the bathroom mirror. She already took a shower and moisturized her body. Her lace front sits unstylized atop her head with the hairline out of her face with hair clips. Her makeup would’ve been done sooner, but she pauses every few beats to perform for herself. 

 

A small smile makes its way across Erik’s lips. As annoyed as he is that she’s leaving, he can’t help but find her process a little adorable. Deciding he’s had enough of playing dumb, he gets up from the bed to lean on the bathroom door threshold and watch her closely. 

 

He nonchalantly crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing. Sienna regards him with a sideways glance, waiting for some smart ass comment, and just shrugs when he doesn’t give one. She continues bouncing on beat to the song as she leans into the mirror to apply eyeshadow. 

 

“You always listening to some sad shit,” Erik comments about the violin heavy track blasting through the speaker. 

 

Sienna side eyes him again, stepping away from the mirror to inspect her work. “Excuse me, nigga, for not wanting to listen to trap music all the damn time.” 

 

“My shit better than this, though.” 

 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” 

 

Erik ignores that because, no, he doesn’t because he just wants to be laid up with her all night, but he won’t let her know that. “Who you getting cute for anyway? One of ya lil’ side niggas?” 

 

“My damn self.” 

 

“So you gon’ sit in the crib, looking like that for nobody.” 

 

Sienna sucks her teeth, cocking her head sideways to squint at him. “I know you heard me say I’m getting cute for myself and if you gotta know since you think you somebody’s father, I’m going out with the girls. It’s Ayesha’s birthday and—” 

 

“Why you always gotta go out with her drunk ass?” he groans in frustration. 

 

Sienna finishes the eyeshadow on her other eye, halfway distracted when she comes back with, “I know you not talmbout my friends when you run around with them fake-ass gang banging-ass niggas who only hang out with you ‘cus you the prince of Wakanda and shit.” 

 

She pulls away from the mirror, satisfied with her work. “Okay, bitch,  _ go off! _ ” she exclaims to her reflection. 

 

Erik rolls his eyes. “I been told you I don’t like her.” 

 

“Okay, and that sound like a  _ you _ problem.” Sienna looks at him briefly, taking in his annoyed expression. “You always tryna start something with me when I wanna to go out, but it’s not gon’ work tonight, baby. I been needing a girl’s night.” 

 

“Ain’t nobody pressed about you going out,” he mutters under his breath, pouting in just the way that strips him of that vicious exterior that he wears so proudly. 

 

She  _ really _ loves this man. He may get on every last one of her nerves, but  _ this is her baby!  _

 

Sienna grins up at him, grabbing his jaw in her hand and squeezing until his lips poke out comically. “If only the people of Wakanda could see their big, mean, scary Killmonger now,” she coos in a babyfied voice. “All in his feelings ‘cus he don’t want his girl to leave him for the night.” 

 

Erik pulls his face away and sneers. “Keep playing with me,” he threatens, but Sienna knows it’s empty. “You lucky I’m even letting you go out tonight with your lil’ ratchet ass friends.” 

 

“ _ Letting _ me?” she repeats, amused as she skims through an array of false eyelashes in her vanity drawer. “You  _ really _ must think you someone’s daddy.” 

 

Erik’s eyes flash mischievously as they scan down her glistening brown skin expanded across her plump curves and rounded edges. He bites his lip, easing up behind her to take both hips in his hands and presses himself against her ass.  

 

“That’s not what you was saying last night,” he murmurs into her ear lowly before kissing her temple. “Ain’t that right, Princess?” His gaze follows her every movement through the mirror and their eyes meet briefly when she places an eyelash up to her face. 

 

She can’t help giggling when his kisses trail to her neck, but she knows exactly what he’s doing. He always does this. He think he can kiss up on her, call her by her favorite nickname, do that irritatingly sexy Daddy voice with his dick pressed up on her ass and while it may work sometimes, this wasn’t one of those times. She meant it when she said she needs a girl's night. Work and school have been tag-teaming with stressing her out, and  _ yeah _ , Erik  _ does _ make a solid point about her friends being ratchet and loud, but she needs that right now! It was either be ratchet and loud with them or sit on the bed and watch Erik scream at the television about sports. 

 

Literally no one wants that. 

 

“Getcha heavy ass off me,” she whines, shaking Erik from off of her with an awkward wiggle and grind against his dick. “Bitch can’t even get ready without you all on me.” 

 

Erik releases her from his grip and crosses his arms, staring down at her in disbelief that the Daddy voice didn’t work. She continues ignoring him as she proceeds to apply her lashes and dance around to her sad music. Erik is nothing if not determined, which is why he’s still staring at his girl like she stepped on a pair of his Jordan’s by the time she’s spraying her face with setting spray and adjusting her wig to lay down the baby hairs. 

 

“You can stare all you want,” she tells him disinterestedly, swooping the toothbrush full of styling gel across her hairline.

 

“You  _ really _ going out?”  Erik huffs, arms still crossed. 

 

“You see me getting ready, don’tchu?” she says, still not looking over at him when she inspects her work and runs her acrylic nails through the loose curls of the unit. “I don’t make no big deal about you going out with your boys.” 

 

“Lie again,” he scoffs. “You be the first one crying talmbout a nigga don’t spend enough time with you when I even think about going out.” 

 

“That’s ‘cus your boys ain’t shit. Always getting y’all into some bullshit,” she says, finally turning to face him. “And I don’t go out as often as you do anyway, but I let you live when you wanna entertain all your lil’ side bitches out there. Let me be great.”

 

Erik rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time. “If it means all that, babe, I’ll take you out,” he says, defeated. “You don’t gotta be doing all that with them bitches.” 

 

Sienna turns back to the mirror, swishing her lace front around to see how it moves. “Nah, ‘cus see I beg you to go out and your big baby ass just complain the whole time. Don’t nobody wanna hear you complain about how you bored all night.” 

 

Erik sucks his teeth now. “I know you not talmbout me complaining.  _ Erik, my feet hurt. Erik, I wanna go home. Erik this. Erik that _ ,” he says in his best impression of Sienna’s distinct high pitch whine. “You do too much when we go out anyway then wonder why I don’t wanna go out.” 

 

Sienna narrows her glare to him, both handing on her hips in an openly defensive stands. “You act like somebody wanna be seen with ya lil’ patchy beard ass.”

 

“Here you go,” he mumbles, doing his very best to not outright laugh at what she calls a mean mug. “I don’t even know why I put up witcho mean ass.” 

 

“Didn’t nobody say you had to, pinto bean headass nigga,” she mutters under her breath on his way out the bathroom. If she wasn’t sure he could and would fold her like an omelette, Sienna would’ve fought the fuck out of Erik for having such a smartass mouth. 

 

“You say some’?” Erik turns on his heels, inserting himself in her space by ways of feigned intimidation, but Sienna isn’t having it. 

 

“I know ya pitbull ear-having ass heard me say your whole head built like some Chipotle pinto beans,” she snapped, waving her curling wand in his face as she plugs it in. 

 

Erik snickers and points right back at her. “You real bold to talk about somebody’s head being built like a bean when yours shaped like a bag of nickels without them wigs and shit.” 

 

“Oh, but you was liking these wigs when you hit it from the back, though,” she claps back just as quickly, clicking her nails in his face with every exaggerated movement of her hand. 

 

“Yeah, ‘cus we know you baldhead on the low,” he says. “‘Fuck I’m finna hold onto?  _ Scalp _ ?!” 

 

Sienna gasps, dropping the wand into the sink to shoot daggers at her disrespectful ass boyfriend. “ _ Bald _ ?” she repeats, putting her hand back in his face. He smirks smugly down at her, awaiting the next comeback, but what happens next is something he wasn’t expecting. 

 

Tears begin to pool in Sienna’s brown eyes while her bottom lip quivers helplessly.

 

_ Shit _ . 

 

Erik can’t stand when Sienna cries. It’s his weakness, and they both know it. As soon as her lip gets to quivering all poked out with her eyes wide like a baby doll’s, he knows he’s done for, ready to lose the battle. He knows it makes him soft, but he can’t help it.

 

“Aye!” he says, looking up and away to avoid having to see her blubber up. “Sienna.”

 

“ _ You so mean _ ,” she whines, shoulders slumped and head thrown back to avoid her tears running streaks down her face. 

 

“Quit that crying shit—”

 

“You don’t even ever ask me what’s wrong. You just mean to me for no reason!” she goes on, arms crossed now. “I don’t do shit to you and you just rude!” 

 

Erik has to resist rolling his eyes again and bites his tongue to avoid mentioning how she started going in on him first, but she’s too much a brat to care anyway.

 

“Are you done?” he asks, turning away when the question only makes her cry harder. 

 

“See,  _ there you go _ ,” she wails, tears streaming down her face, arms flailing about in frustration. “You don’t care about my feelings or what’s going on with me and you just talk to me like I’m some regular bitch! I hate school! I’m finna drop out and be a whole stripper! I can’t do this shit, babe, and you making a big-ass deal about me going to the club, and now you saying you hate me ‘cus I’m bald when I don’t say shit about that bald spot in your beard! We both some bald bitches but  _ I let you be bald in peace!” _

 

Sienna’s foundation is pretty much shot to hell at this point, but Erik doesn’t let it stop him from wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling his hot mess of a girlfriend into his chest. He’s knows she’s being her regular highly sensitive self, and it’s best to just not tell her she’s wrong.

 

“Girl, you know I ain’t mean that shit,” he says, bringing his lips to her crown. “You know you not bald. I know you not bald.” 

 

“Why you say it then, E?” Sienna sniffles. 

 

“I was just playing—“ 

 

“That’s your problem. You play too much and then wonder why I wanna smack the taste out your mouth sometimes,” she says, muffled into his chest. 

 

“Put your hands on me, and I’ll  _ really _ give you something to cry about,” he grumbles. Sienna pulls away from him to slam the bathroom door in his face. 

 

“Why you always so rude to me?” she complains through a stuffy nose. “Leave it to my dumbass to get with the nigga who go by Killmonger!” 

 

Even when she’s projecting and in dire need of someone to be sensitive with her, Erik can’t help getting smart right back with her. “Yeah, and leave it to my dumbass to get with your crybaby ass.” 

 

“Okay, leave me then! Ain’t nobody begging you to stay.”

 

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Always something with this girl,” he says to himself, leaning on the wall. “Every time you get all in your feelings you think a nigga tryna leave you or some shit. Dramatic ass.”

 

“How am I dramatic when you start shit with me ‘cus I wanna go out with my girls?” she yells from the other side of the door, and if he knows her like he knows her, she isn’t gonna be done yelling until she’s ready. “I ain’t say shit to you and you just in my face for no reason. It’s like you like seeing me get all worked up—” She pauses to gasp. “Oh, nah, see what you tryna do is ruin my mood so I gotta stay in and be laid up with your ugly ass, but it’s  _ not _ gonna work!” 

 

She says it as though she’s cracked some secret code and she might be partially right, but Erik genuinely didn’t mean to make her cry. They always go in on each other and it’s not the first time either have joked on each other being bald or having pitbull ears. 

 

“A’ight, look, Princess,” he starts, shaking his head as though to shake off his pride. “I ain’t mean to get you all rowdy and shit. I know you know you not bald. What’s really wrong?” 

 

Sienna exhales shakily, the tail end of her tears diminishing. “I just wanna go out with my friends ‘cus I don’t wanna worry about work or school or anything else,” she explains, opening the bathroom door to blink up at him. He stares back down at her. Her makeup is fixed and any traces of her crying have been fixed. 

 

“Is that okay with you?” Sienna asks sarcastically. 

 

Erik holds back another smart comment. “You know you don’t have to ask to go out. Even if you do ask and I say no, you go out anyway.” 

 

“Then why did you call me baldhead?” 

 

He is never going to hear the end of that. “Oh my god, don’t say it again!” he exclaims. “It wasn’t that deep, Sienna. Why you stuck on it?” 

 

Sienna’s bottom lip pokes out and begins shaking again, but he puts his index finger in her face before it can go any farther. 

 

“Don’t start that sensitive shit again,” he growls warningly. “You started with me now I’m ending it.” 

 

Sienna doesn’t take that explanation and begins tearing up again. “I really got with the meanest nigga in Oakland,” she whispers more to herself than him, and Erik is at a complete loss as to how their day started and where it is now. 

 

“Are you pregnant?” he outright asks. 

 

At that, Sienna gasps again and slams the door back in his face, hitting him smack in his nose as she does. He makes a noise of frustration and backs away from the door. 

 

“Aye, you got one more time to be slamming doors before I—” he starts but is interrupted. 

 

“ _ Pregnant _ , E?! Really? Not only am I bald but I’m fat, too?” she goes on angrily. 

 

Erik groans. “I swear to god…”

 

“Well the joke is on you ‘cus now everybody’s gonna know you fuck with bald, fat bitches! Don’t nobody wanna have your big headed ass babies, Erik, and that’s on everything I love!” 

 

Sienna goes on and on on her own personal tirade, angrily tossing and handling things around their bathroom. This goes on for another five minutes before Erik finds himself back in their bed watching basketball. It’s less stressful to just let her vent than dig to get to the root of the problem. 

 

The thing is Sienna has  _ always _ been sensitive. She’s a certified crybaby spoiled brat who pouts and whines when she doesn’t get her way. It’s a side effect of being an only child to two very rich parents who showered her with love, affection, and gifts beyond her desires. At times it’s cute and others, Erik genuinely wonders why he puts up with it. She’s the closest thing to a home in America. She’s caring, loving, passionate, goofy, and just about the greatest thing that’s happened to him. The good outweighs the bad, but Erik wouldn’t call times like this bad. Funny and kinda annoying, yes, but not bad. 

Even still, she’s rarely ever able to take what she dishes out and maybe that’s her fault for getting with a former black ops soldier who threw his one cousin over a cliff and came very close to killing the other. 

 

As much as she gets on his nerves,  _ that’s his baby!  _

 

Erik exhales deeply, halfway listening to her talk shit. He turns the volume up on the television, resting his head on his hand. 

 

About fifteen minutes later, Sienna exits the bathroom with her makeup redone and her lace front laid to perfection. She’s still grumbling under her breath and shoots daggers at Erik that go ignored mainly because he knows if they make eye contact, they’ll get right back into it. 

 

Sienna’s calling him all types of bitch niggas and whatnot, growing more and more frustrated when he continues to ignore her. Having had enough, she removes his MIT sweatshirt and tosses it with all her might in his direction. Erik doesn’t flinch when the sweatshirt lands on the side of the bed then falls over the edge. 

 

“I can’t stand your ass sometimes,” she growls loud enough for him to hear as if it’s his fault she missed.

 

Erik shrugs. “Word.”

 

Sienna doesn’t respond and instead enters her walk-in closet to get dressed. She rummages through the mountains of clothes scattered on the floor, holding up different dresses, skirts, and bodysuits up to her torso, modeling them for herself. When she usually gets dressed and goes through this process, she’d yell out and ask Erik if he’s seen a certain article of clothing, but right now she’s silent aside from the grunts and groans of trying on outfit after outfit. 

 

Another few moments pass and she exits the closet in a black and white checkered tube top and pencil skirt set, silver body chain with matching rings, and a pair of dangerous looking, red, opened toed heels that takes her from five-seven to six feet easily. 

 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, biting his bottom lip when he takes in the outrageous pattern of the set looks against her protruding ass and perky breasts. “I know you gon’ put on a jacket.” 

 

“You not my father,” she snaps, standing before the full length mirror in the bathroom now, adjusting her outfit. “I wear what I want.” 

 

“It’s supposed to be chilly tonight, but do you,” he mumbles, turning back to the TV. Sienna goes back and forth between the closet and bathroom mirrors to take selfies, and he steals a glance or two because even when she’s being like this, she’s bad as fuck. 

 

When ten o’clock hits, Sienna’s phone rings and she rushes out a reply to whoever’s on the other end before stomping out the bedroom without a word to Erik. 

 

He scoffs and rolls off the mattress to chase after her. “I know ya lil’ disrespectful ass ain’t about to leave without saying goodbye!” he calls sternly over the balcony down to the lower level where she’s stuffing random items into her leather clutch. 

 

She looks up at him with a disinterested glare. “Bye, nigga.” 

 

Erik quirks an eyebrow up. “What time you finna be home?” 

 

“When I want.” 

 

His patience is running thin, but he takes into consideration what she said about needing a girls night. If he says what he wants to, she’ll start crying again and he doesn’t need her friends looking at him sideways. 

 

“I don’t even get a kiss?” 

 

“Quit being such a baby,” is all she said as she shuts the front door, leaving Erik looking down at the living room boredly. 

 

In the time Sienna is gone, Erik makes himself busy with cleaning up the mess of makeup, clothes, and jewelry she left around the room. She’s messy by nature, but this is another level of unorganized. He makes himself a sandwich, cleans the kitchen, and even watches some of the  _ Real Housewives of Atlanta _ episodes she recorded on the DVR. He’s heavily invested in whatever drama Nene has with Cynthia when his phone vibrates with a notification. 

 

_ siennagrams just posted a photo.  _

 

Erik taps the notification to be brought to Sienna’s latest instagram post—it’s a mirror selfie of her looking absolutely delicious with a subtle filter. Out of instinct, he double taps and scrolls downward. 

 

_ You might have a fortune, but you lose me and you still gon’ be misfortunate, nigga 💜💅🏾 _

 

As hard he tries, Erik cannot help groaning aloud at the caption. 

 

Unable to stop himself, he types out a comment bound to get lost among the sea of heart emojis and compliments from her friends and thirsty comments from randoms. 

 

_ dramatic ass 🙄 _

 

He tosses his phone to the side and unpauses the show. 

  
  
  


It’s roughly four in the morning when Sienna staggers through the front door and heads straight upstairs to the bedroom. Before anything else, she removes the monstrosity of shoes from her aching feet and tosses them at a random point in the room. Erik is fast asleep and snoring on his stomach, snuggling one of her silk pillows close to his chest. 

 

In her tipsy state, she feels her heart swell and butterflies form in the pit of her stomach at the sight of him looking so soft. Despite how hot he made her earlier, she stares down at him in his slumbered state like he’s somebody’s precious little angel and not the meanest nigga in Oakland. She enjoys watching him sleep simply because it’s the one time where he’s totally relaxed and doesn’t look like he wants to kill everyone he meets. 

 

Except, he never looks at her like that. He only ever looks at Sienna like she’s hung the moon— she can’t figure out  _ why _ . Even when she’s raging and being her wild and inconsolable self, he never not looks at her like he’s deep in love. No one would’ve ever thought love was in the cards for Erik, but it’s there. As vicious as he is, it’s there.

 

She  _ still _ can’t stand him though. 

 

She sighs and runs her coffin-shaped nails along the expanse of bumps and keloids over his back and arms. He shifts but doesn’t awaken. 

 

Light on her feet so not to wake him, Sienna straddles his back and leans forward until her head lays between his shoulders with her arms secured around his middle. She inhales deeply, and his natural scent mixed with the faint faded whiff of his cologne sends a chill of familiarity throughout her body. 

 

She loves his mean ass  _ so _ much. 

 

Sienna grins to herself and squeezes him. “Baby,” she whispers, reaching upward to kiss his temple. “ _ Baaaaby _ .” She elongates the word out drunkishly and giggles. 

 

Erik stirs slowly, his eyes opening one at a time and staring out at the dark room. A few loose tendrils of Sienna’s wig tickle against his nose during her assault of kisses on his temple and down to his cheek. He grunts low in his throat and shuts his eyes again, head resting back on the pillow. In his half-awakened state, Erik makes a sound of annoyance. “Getcha heavy ass off me,” he complains even when he makes no move to remove her. 

 

“Lemme kiss you, baby,” she replies, smiling even wider now that he’s awake. 

 

“Oh,  _ now _ I’m baby?” he slurs, voice thick with sleep. “Thought I was, what, a pinto bean headass nigga?” 

 

“Yeah, but you  _ my _ pinto bean headass nigga.” 

 

Erik makes another noise. “Did you have fun?” 

 

Sienna shrugs, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Eh,” she squeaks and kisses his damp skin. “Ayesha got drunk as fuck and threw up all over my outfit so we had to go back to her place and swap outfits.”

 

“That’s whatcho ass get,” he says.

 

“C’mon, don't start.” 

 

Erik hums and turns over, grabbing her around her waist to toss her beside him. She yelps excitedly as she bounces on the mattress and makes her way to be under his arm. 

 

“ _ Now _ you wanna be all cuddly with a nigga,” he continues despite pulling her into him and inhaling her scent as well. “ _ Now _ you wanna be all up on me. Four in the morning and you think I’m just supposed to be cool with you just out and about, huh? Postin’ a bunch of bullshit on Instagram for your lil’ fanboys… and you better be blocking niggas or I’m—“

 

Sienna drowns out the rest of what he’s saying with a goofy smile spread across her face, nodding when she needs to and agreeing whenever he pauses. It’s best to just smile and nod when he goes on his rants because he can go on for hours. 

 

In the middle of him swearing he’ll “shoot up any block for his,” Sienna leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth gently. He pauses to look at her with a quizzical glare for the soft gesture.

 

“You ain’t mean that shit about not wanting to go out with me you was saying earlier, did you?” she asks, lips just inches from his. 

 

“Hell nah.” He looks away. “You really not tryna have my babies?” 

 

Sienna giggles some more and kisses him square on his mouth now, staining his lips with baby pink gloss. “You can’t be taking the shit I say to heart.” 

 

“Okay, so you know you’re not bald then, right?” 

 

She nods, rolling her eyes playfully. “I was only tripping ‘cus I wanted to get out the house,” she explains. “But now that I did?” She shakes her head. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

 

“So, you gon let me take you out from now on?” He shifts to lay on his side for a better look at her.

 

Sienna scoffs, but it’s harmless. “There your old ass go tryna be someone’s father again.” 

 

Neither of them can hold in their laughs. Sienna rests her head on the pillow and runs her fingers through his beard.

 

“I’d have all your babies. As big headed and annoying as they’d probably be,” she says almost like she’s joking, but she means it all the way. He analyzes her closely.

 

“I’m sorry you ain’t have fun.” 

 

She shakes her head. “It’s whatever. Spent the whole time missing you, lowkey.” 

 

“Even after you said I was the meanest nigga in Oakland.” 

 

“Oh, no, you  _ definitely _ are. I meant that shit.”

 

“Man, whatever,” he sneers, laying back down to pull her in closer. “Take ya ass to sleep. We going out tomorrow.” 

 

She hooks one long, meaty leg over his waist and rests one hand on his chest and the other idly scratching his scalp. “Yeah?” she agrees happily. 

 

“Mhmm,” he hums tiredly. “And not on no club shit either. We goin’ out like regular, grown-ass people. And don’t think you not gon’ tell me what’s been going on in school and why work been stressing you out. If I found out it’s that colonizer-ass manager of yours, everybody gon’ get it. You hear me?” 

 

“I hear you, E,” she says and shuts her eyes, drifting off with a huge smile as her man’s heartbeat thumps loudly in her ear.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This might become a series. Who knows? I just really love writing Killmonger.


End file.
